


Wreck Me

by lilihierax (Cerberus_Brulee)



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DCU
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, dom/sub elements, flying sex gymnastics, roleplay elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6904453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberus_Brulee/pseuds/lilihierax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>You took everything from me. It's only fair that you let me take something from you.</i>
</p><p>  <i>Prompt: Very straightforward, but I need Clark chaining Bruce up. Maybe Bruce wants to re-enact his nightmare in a more pleasant way.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Wreck Me

**Author's Note:**

> _I've adored this ship for about 10 years but this is my first fic. The fill and scenario made me think of something silly, but also something hot (but that's probably just Snyder aesthetics). This probably wasn't what OP was expecting, but I hope you get some enjoyment out of this. Thanks for writing a prompt that finally got me to write a SuperBat. Please also note that this is a consensual scene, which I was too amateur and lazy to write the lead-up to._

The Batman flexed his wrists against the metal bindings, chains rattled above as he swayed, the toes of his boots scraping the floor. Unfortunately for him, his captor actually didn't bind his forearms, so he couldn't even trigger the blades in his gauntlets to cut his way out of this situation. The darkness smelled of home, and the trickle of water echoing off stone walls told him that it was the Batcave. Batman could feel the cowl pressed against his face, and the cool brush of his cape against his back.

Up ahead, the Batman heard one of the cave exits open with the scrape of stone and metal, and the red glow of dusk illuminated the rocky russet walls before him. The Superman flew down, landing on one knee with a crash that cracked the earth, red cape settling around him like a pool of blood that cascaded down as he rose to his feet. The halo revealed an expression of hunger as the son of Krypton raised his head to lock his gaze with the knight of Gotham.

The Batman felt his pulse speed up as the Superman slipped into the darkness towards him, like that nightmare all over again. Adrenaline spiked as he pulled against the bindings once more, but he stilled when a light above him switched on. He flinched away as a hand reached out of the darkness, but was unable to stop it from tearing the mantle from him. He grit his teeth as he turned to look into the Superman's eyes, but felt his jaw go slack as Kal-El stepped into view, completely bared to Bruce with his red cape clenched in one fist.

Bruce drew in a sharp breath when a hand capable of crushing steel pressed against his stomach and skated upwards. Up, up, up over his ribs, pausing to brush over a nipple ever so lightly that it drew a faint moan out of him. Anxiety gripped at his diaphragm when the hand stopped right over his heart, and he was surprised to hear himself breathe out a sigh of relief when it resumed its path up to his neck. Finally the hand settled against the side of his face, and Bruce leaned into it like a cat.

“You took everything from me,” Kal whispered into his neck, Bruce grunted with frustration that he was laden down with so many layers while Kal stood nude in front of him. Kal brushed his thumb over a sharp cheekbone, “It's only fair that you let me take something from you,” and he slunk to his knees, nuzzling a cheek into Bruce's trapped length. Chains rattled above them as Bruce yanked at his bindings again, but remained unable to escape. He felt his utility belt slither from around his waist, falling to the floor with a clatter.

“Careful with that!” Bruce growled irritably, “You're familiar with the kind of firepower I carry.”

Kal smirked up at him as he pulled Bruce's stiff member from its confines. Bruce locked onto those unearthly blue eyes as Kal bent forward and engulfed him in wet heat. He keened loudly into the cave as a hot, velvet tongue stroked and pressed against the thick vein on the underside of his cock. Bruce never understood how anyone could mistake the creature of delightful sin knelt before him as a god. Kal's head bobbed beneath him with a bounce of curls, then he swallowed Bruce down, held him deep in his mouth and pulled off completely, a trail of saliva connected them and Kal stuck his tongue as he looked through his lashes up to Bruce. 

Kal leaned back on a hand and wrapped his free hand around himself, cape splashed around him on the cave floor. Bruce watched, enthralled as Kal flexed his hips and thrust into his own fist like a dance. He watched as Kal bent back onto an elbow into the cape that twisted beneath him as he pulled and writhed and stroked himself to orgasm, his body pulled taut with a soft cry of, “Bruce,” as he came with a splash into his hand.

“Clark,” Bruce rasped desperately, his own cock twitched upwards, still hard as a rock. He tipped his forehead into his own arm, destroyed before his destruction. He watched Clark pull himself back up onto his knees, and lean forward to kiss the tip of Bruce's cock. He thrust forward into emptiness when Clark pulled his face back at the first sign of movement.

He tilted his face up to Bruce and said firmly, “Remember. This is mine to take, not yours to give.”

Bruce reigned in his breathing and allowed the tension to release from his body, “Alright, Clark.”

Clark leaned in and wrapped his lips around the tip of Bruce's cock. Bruce watched a soiled hand disappear behind Clark, watched Clark's thighs tense and relax as he stretched himself with his own come as lubricant. He trembled when Clark moaned around him and tongued his hard length until Bruce was slick with his saliva. Then Clark pulled away again before he could finish, and Bruce cried out breathlessly, “Son of a--.”

Clark levitated into the air until he was eye level with Bruce, the cape in his hand rippled behind him like the fins of a fighter fish. Bruce drank his beauty in greedily, all the ethereal, sun-kissed skin, the cock that hadn't even softened after orgasm. They leaned into each other as they met in a hungry kiss, Clark wrapped an arm around Bruce and floated up through bound wrists so that Bruce embraced him around the shoulders. He pulled one of Bruce's thighs up to a sitting position and guided Bruce's length into himself, letting out a pornographically satisfied moan as Bruce sank into him.

“You're so ridiculous,” Bruce laughed at their flying sex gymnastics, “Beautiful and ridiculous.”

Clark locked his legs around Bruce's waist, “Bring your other leg up, babe,” Bruce pulled his leg up as instructed and Clark wrapped his other hand under the thigh, then started fucking himself on Bruce. The length of chain above--now slackened by Clark taking all of Bruce's weight--rattled noisily.

“Fuck! Clark, I'm close,” his hands were now wrapped around the back of Clark's neck, hanging down as Clark fucked down at a steady rhythm, his cock drooling a messy trail of come onto Bruce's torso. He felt Clark tighten around his length, listened as Clark moaned louder and louder, then heard himself yell out, “Oh fuck, yes,” when Clark came again, milking Bruce as he continued to fuck himself through the haze of pleasure.

“Come on, Bruce,” he whined and ground Bruce deeper, and deeper still until he coaxed a screaming orgasm out of him at last, “Yeah, there you go. It's all mine.”

Their breaths began to even as they swayed through the air with Clark holding them up, and as the blood stopped rushing through Bruce's ears, he heard Clark humming softly. He twisted in the embrace, and grumbled in disbelief, “Is that the song about the wrecking ball?”

“Well, we are swinging from a chain attached to the ceiling, and I just let you _wre-e-eck me_ ,” Clark grinned as he sang out the last two words.

“I'm pretty sure I'm the one that was wrecked, and someone needs a spanking to correct bad taste when I get out of these chains,” Bruce muttered. Clark just tipped his head to one side and raised a brow at him.

“I'm up for it, but your hand would hurt more than my ass.”

Bruce's lips pulled into a smirk, “There's ways to make you feel it.”

Clark shivered at the sensation of Bruce's softened cock slipping out of him along with some come, “Mmmmmhm. Has anyone ever ejaculated inside of you? It feels disgusting. And really hot,” he embraced Bruce tighter, “So, when can I take some more?”

“I'm neither young nor Kryptonian. Now bring me to my bedroom,” Bruce commanded as he wrapped his palms around Clark's ass.

“Bossy. Hey, when did you get out of the chains?” Clark asked, looking up with surprise, yelping when Bruce dug the claws of his gauntlets into invulnerable but over-sensitized skin, “Gosh okay, bedroom.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case you aren't familiar with the song referenced at the end, it's Miley Cyrus's [Wrecking Ball](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=My2FRPA3Gf8). Also thanks to [Mithen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mithen/pseuds/mithen) for encouraging me to finish and post it.


End file.
